Brilliant idea. Before I even google it to find out if it's already a thing, I'm going to plunge on ahead as if it were my own. So, here's my speech promoting my plan:
Start a grassroots campaign to raise general social awareness of the fact that there are these old people who -- maybe live alone, you know -- and they're getting on, and no one really looks after them or checks in on them. Then they are found by some meter reader coming to shut off the electrical service, or because the neighbors noticed a smell. And they are being EATEN BY THE CATS.
So, my fellow Americans, to avert this national tragedy, I propose that each and every one of you adopt at least one old person.
You will ensure that this person is taken care of. You will support and assist them as they go from vibrant, active human beings into a slowly eroding crust of the person they once were. Remember, they are still people. They still think of themselves as the relevant, hip person they saw in the mirror at 20 -- rock climber, adventurer, auto mechanic, partier or upstart rebel -- not grandma or grandpa.
You will make sure to keep that kind of spirit alive in them. Get them to form new memories as the ravages of old age and decrepitude tear from them all but their most treasured stories, which they feel bear oft repeating. Indulge them. It's sometimes all they have.
Remind them that they are still alive as you include them in as many things as possible. Not out of some duty or obligation, but because you genuinely relate to them as a human being, appreciate them and want them around. They can offer a wealth of perspective if you are open to it. And they may have a thing or two to learn from you. Win-win.
Let me conclude with this: As a recently diagnosed "old person," I have a friend who has adopted more than one us. Granted, she is a generally caring person, and anyone in her orbit will benefit from her compassion, but specific people, myself included, have been specifically targeted. She has adopted me, as well as her 78-year-old landlady, and she treats us like a couple of treasured pets. No one's getting eaten on her watch. (LYSM, E___!)
OK, back to my partisan podcasts and watching the apocalypse unfold in real-time.
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